


So, you have a boyfriend

by bluenna



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: M/M, i cant believe miller has a bf and its not monty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:22:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5828431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluenna/pseuds/bluenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>”So, you have a boyfriend. Do I know him?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	So, you have a boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> someone probs wrote something like this already but ive been without internet for a week and i just watched the episode and had to write something so... please accept this shitty fic as a token of my affection towards minty

”So, you have a boyfriend.” 

Miller looks up from the gun he's cleaning and sees Monty standing in front of the table he's sitting behind. 

”Do I know him?”

Miller closes his eyes briefly and curses Bellamy. The older man clearly has no idea what confidential means. 

”Yeah,” Miller answers after a moment of watching Monty fidget. He looks back down at the gun, decides it's clean enough and pushes it away from him. He leans back on his chair and looks back up at Monty again.

Monty clears his throat. ”Who is it?”

Miller raises his brow at him and doesn't answer.

”Right,” Monty says. ”It's none of my business, but I just… I don't know.” He looks behind him, like he's considering leaving, then turns back to face Miller. ”I mean, you told Bellamy, but not me?”

Miller fights the sigh building in his chest and curses Bellamy again. ”I didn't mean to tell him,” he says, although it sounds like a lie even to his ears. He grimaces and scratches the back of his neck while Monty considers him.

”Was it a secret?”

Miller nods.

”And Bellamy still told us?”

The nod is slower this time.

Monty crosses his arms across his chest. ”Is it someone everyone hates?”

”No.”

”Is it someone I hate?”

”No.”

”Then who is it?”

Miller frowns. Monty looks almost pissed, and Miller thinks there's only so many times he can dodge the question.”Why do you care?”

Monty looks affronted. ”I'm your friend.”

Miller sighs. ”Right.”

Apparently that's the wrong thing to say. Monty bristles. He presses his arms firmer against his chest and shifts the weight on his feet. ”Am I not?” he asks, sounding angry.

Miller blinks. If he was standing he would take a step backwards, but all he can do now is press his feet against the ground and let them slide further away from him. ”Of course you are,” he rushes to say, too slow and too fast at the same time. 

Monty scoffs and turns to leave, and Miller's on his feet before his brain catches up. ”I lied,” he blurts.

Monty turns around slowly. ”What?”

Miller runs his hand down his face. ”I lied. To Bellamy. I don't have a boyfriend.”

”What?” Monty repeats, baffled.

”He was trying to set me up with this guy and… I had to figure something out, because I already like someone else, and-”

”Who?” Monty asks.

Miller blinks. ”What? I- I don't know, someone he knows, he didn't tell me-”

”No,” Monty cuts him off again. ”Who do you like?”

Miller opens his mouth and closes it at loss of words. He hadn't meant to say that. He really, really wants to strange Bellamy. Maybe after he has strangled himself. ”It doesn't matter?”

Monty narrows his eyes at him.

Uh-oh, Miller thinks.

”Is it someone I know?”

”...Yes?”

”Is it someone everyone hates?”

Fuck. ”No.”

”Is it someone I hate?”

”No.”

”Who is it?”

Miller presses his lips together in order not to blurt out the obvious answer. He pushes his hands into his pockets and avoids looking at Monty.

”Nathan.” 

Miller closes his eyes. 

”Who is it?”

”Ah… you know,” Miller says, waving his hand.

”I don't,” Monty says. Miller hears him come closer and opens his eyes. Monty's looking at him like he's approaching a wild animal, he's hands halfway up and his eyes kind. He comes to stand in front of Miller, and Miller fights the urges to step closer and to get away. He stands still and holds his breath.

”You don't have to tell me,” Monty says, sounding nervous. ”I just… I care about you, okay? You're my friend, my closest friend, really, now that...” Monty swallows and Miller almost reaches his hand to touch him, to comfort him. ”I would tell you. And I don't mean to guilt trip you, or anything, you don't owe me anything. I just want to be someone you can trust. But, seriously, you don't have to tell me anything until you want to, I know how hard it is for you to- I mean you're not like me, I basically wear my heart on my s-”

”Monty,” Miller says.

Monty breaths in shakily and chuckles. ”Right. I'm babbling again.”

Miller stays quiet while Monty gets his breathing under control. 

”I trust you,” he says then, quietly, unsure he wants to be heard. ”I want to tell you, but...”

”You can't.”

”I can't.”

Monty nods. He accepts it, and Miller can't accept that, no matter how the sane part of him is yelling at him to shut up. ”Not for the reason you think, though.”

Monty looks him in the eyes and Miller's startled silent.

He tries to tell himself time and time again he's gotten used to the way Monty looks. His ruffled hair, his soft mouth, his eyes that reflect everything he thinks – everything. But he's unprepared everytime, he sees the boy and he feels too much, wants too much, and forgets to keep that from showing.

”Why then?” Monty whispers, and Miller takes a step forward so their toes are touching and he could easily count Monty's eyelashes. He raises a shaky hand and plays with the hem of Monty's shirt. He knows it's enough to let Monty know how he feels. He doesn't dare to do anything more, not when Monty's already been through so much, going through so much. 

Monty said Miller doesn't owe him anything, and it goes the other way too.

”Oh,” Monty breathes.

”Yeah.”

”That explains a lot.”

Miller smiles weakly and lets his forehead fall against Monty's shoulder. ”Yeah,” he repeats.

He counts the rises and falls of Monty's shoulders and closes his eyes. He'll pick himself up soon, he tells himself. He just needs another minute.

He feels the press of Monty's head against the side of his own and sighs. He grips the hem of Monty's shirt tighter, crumbling it between his fingers, and holds his breath as the younger boy's arms wrap around his back. 

Monty hugs him close and presses a his lips chastely against Miller's neck.

”Okay?”

Miller smiles. ”Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> pls send me prompts at lightsabrey.tumblr.com im desperate


End file.
